


To live among the dead

by hyperius



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: Angst, Bruce Wayne is a Bad Parent, Caring Batfamily (DCU), Clark Kent is Amazing, Dick Grayson loves his family, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Jason Todd Deserves Better, Jason Todd Finally Sticks Up for Himself, Jason Todd Needs A Hug, Protective Dick Grayson
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-07
Updated: 2020-09-03
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:08:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25119664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hyperius/pseuds/hyperius
Summary: It was clear to Jason he wasn’t welcomed with the Bat’s any longer, but that’s fine. He doesn’t need them. They were only holding him back. Without them and their damned moral code, he can finally do what needs to be done.Dick won’t let his brother go so easily, though.
Relationships: Dick Grayson & Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson & Clark Kent, Dick Grayson & Jason Todd, Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne
Comments: 38
Kudos: 303





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> For those who don’t know, Bruce brought Jason to Ethiopia when Damian died to try and force him to remember how he came back to life. It's good to know for the story

It became clear to Jason that he isn’t wanted. The Bat has forsaken him, loathed him, abandoned the child he once was and resented the man he became. The Bat resented the trauma Jason faced - the trauma he was never able to let go of. He Loathed the fact Jason carried a heavy, deep, and green _pain_ that was intertwined so thoroughly with his soul that he doesn’t know where his _hurt_ started and _soul_ ended.

Not that it matters anymore.

Jason doesn’t fucking need him. He doesn’t need - he doesn’t need them. He doesn’t - he doesn’t - fuck! _He doesn’t fucking need them_. Not after all those times - time and time and time again of him being rejected by those damn bastards. By the Batman. Them scolding him, looking down at him, pushing him down because his methods being too lethal, too brutal, too this and too that. Hypocritical, half the time, considering how the Bat deals with some of his criminals.

And then they claim he’s too angry, too harsh, too sharp with his words or not emotional enough, not trusting enough - as if they trust him! No matter what, no matter what he does it’s never enough. _Never enough_. No matter how hard he tried to fit in their little cookie cutter mold, no matter how hard he tried to be a good son, no matter how hard he tried to be who they wanted him to be - a good soldier - it was never enough. It was never… he was never enough. He will never be enough.

He’s done trying. He’s done playing his games and jumping through endless hoops just to find that there are more obstacles for him to cross. If they won’t treat him as a hero, or a son, then why the fuck should he try to be either anymore? He’s not a hero, they all told him that much - and he’s not part of the family, Bruce proved that time and time again.

The only thing that kept him in Gotham was that he was born there. He was a Gothamite, to his very core. He was raised on Her streets and spilled his blood in her honor. But, he supposes, a child must leave their home eventually.

His eventually merely came after a brutal beating, a death, a sliced throat and a betrayal that reached the levels of one Sheila Haywood.

Don’t get Jason wrong, he’s glad Damian came back to life. No kid deserved that but…

No child deserved to return to the very spot he was brutally tortured, betrayed, and murdered either.

Fuck Batman. Fuck Bruce.

He didn’t once turn back to glance behind as he sped from Gotham, safe houses burning to the ground and taking with them every remnant of his past. Jason Todd has long since been dead, and now, finally, the Red Hood has died too.

Ok, so maybe Jason Todd isn’t completely dead. Legally, he is. Sure. But metaphorically? No. The issue is he likes his name. Of course, he’ll use aliases from now on since he doesn’t want the Bats to be able to track him, but his name is the last thing he has of his mother. His real mother: Catherine. He doesn’t want to let go of that, to let go of the one loving parent he’s ever had. So, perhaps Jason Todd isn’t dead, not completely. But he does need a new name to live by. One that the Bats don’t know about. Jason is a common enough name, and the Bats would probably assume he’d pick a new first name while on the run. It’s the last name he needs to pick carefully. Something common, but not something too common like Smith. Maybe... Wright? Jason Wright? Yeah, he could get behind that.

He gets to DC before he stops for the night, letting out a low breath when he finds a dingy little motel room where people know better than to ask questions. He makes his way to his room, laying out the few pieces of gear he brought with him on his bed: his nicer guns, bullets, knives, and armor. First things first, though. It’s time to remove the last trace of the Bat - the bat symbol across the chest piece. It’s a strange sort of cathartic, ripping away the red bat from the armor. It felt, in a sense, like pulling off a bandaid that has become part of the scab. It needed to go - the wound can’t heal with the bandaid on, but it hurts like hell to peal off. He couldn’t stop the tears as he ripped the bat from his armor, he couldn’t stop the wave of self loathing, of hate, of anger and emerald fire that burned through his veins like the venom of a snake. Tearing the bat from his armor was severing the final bond to the family, and though the process was rather fast, it felt slow. Slow and prolonged, as if he was reliving the torture Joker had afflicted on him. It was tearing apart his heart, ripping from it every bit of nostalgia and love he once felt, and then stitching what’s left back together in a lame attempt to reassemble his heart.

The bat symbol laid in shreds at his feet, and he stared down at the armor that now held no symbol, no family crest, no tie to any hero, any loyalty, any moral code. He was now… alone. Isolated. Free.

No more ties, no more people he needs to try to please, no one to tell him he’s wrong, or cruel, or mean or - or a monster. He’s free to do whatever he wants, whenever he wants. Free to work. Free to kill. He stared down at the empty space of his armor, and decided he will make no symbol to replace the one he lost. He will never let anyone tether him down again. He will never let anyone stop him from living as he sees fit. He will never let anyone scar his heart - damage his soul - betray him ever again. No bat. No lover. No - no nothing.

Never again.

He went out that night to a craft store, picking out all the right fabrics to change his look into who he shall become. A black bodysuit, not unlike Dick’s, except he’ll have silver lining running up his chest and over the backs of his shoulder, highlighting his build and his muscles. He attached a hood to cover his head, as well as a black mask to cover his chin and nose. He’ll blend in amongst the shadows, and as much as he’ll roam among the living, he’ll never be a part of them. He’ll still be dead. A ghost. Yes… yes. That’s who he is. That’s who he’ll become.

A Ghost.

* * *

“He’s never been gone for longer than a month without some form of contact!” Dick was pacing the Batcave, fingers thrumming impatiently against his thigh. He was nervous, and worried, and scared for his little brother. They already almost lost one, no, they did lose one. They lost Damian. They don’t need to lose another, especially not Jason. Not again.

“I’m sure he’s just on a mission,” Tim shrugged, but by the way he tapped his fingers in that little pattern of his, Dick was able to tell he was just as nervous. He was trying to play it off, though, whether it’s because he believes Jason needs his space or because he doesn’t want to be involved with the other man again. Which, Dick doubts honestly. As much as he may deny it, the two have began to get along quite well. Jason apologized for trying to murder the little bird, and Tim has been willing to move past the attempt on his life (though not forgive, but Jason expects no forgiveness. Which is why it works).

“But if he goes on a mission that’ll make him go off the grid he tells someone, if not us, one of his friends. I called Roy and Kori, neither of them have said they’ve seen him.”

“So what? He’s missing? Or he’s kidnapped?”

“Or dead.”

“Damian!”

The small boy shrugged, but tension lined his muscle as he stared down at the sword he was cleaning, refusing to look at either of his brothers, “It’s a possibility we need to prepare for.”

“No,” Dick shook his head, “We aren’t thinking like that. He’s alive, we just need to find him.”

Damian frowned, “Blind optimism leads to false hope and despair.”

“Optimism is also what led us to you. It’s what will lead us to find Jay, too. Got it? He’s not dead.”

Damian finally paused in motions, looking up to the honest and pleading expression across Dick’s face. The man truly believed in every word he’s said, so Damian will too. Damian has little faith in Red Hood, frankly, but he has faith in Dick Grayson. So if he believes they will find Jason, Damian will too. Hesitantly, though, as he shall also prepare to find their wayward brother dead. Still, he will have some form of belief, for Grayson’s sake, “So be it.”

Dick nodded, a determined glint flashing in his blue eyes, “Tim?”

“Yeah,” he shrugged, “I miss waffle Wednesday, it’s not the same without someone to talk shit with.”

“And B? You in?” Batman has yet to look away from his computer, and his clear lack of care for the situation makes Dick’s blood boil.

He watched his mentor sigh, “He’s probably being overdramatic. Nothing to worry about.”

“Ok, but what if there is something to worry about? You really want to see Jason dead again?!” He watched the Bat tense, watched him pause from his typing. Watched him slowly turn from the computer, glaring at Nightwing.

“Of course I don’t want that,” he glared between his three sons, “I simply don’t want to waste my time on his dramatics.”

“Well I’d rather waste my time on his dramatics then find out he died because we didn’t look.”

Silence echoed in the cave, tension thick and heavy in the air. No one dared breath for a long moment. Nightwing and Batman glared, neither one willing to look away first.

Until Batman did, “Fine. What is it you believe we should do?”

Nightwing let out a long breath, shoulders slumping slightly as he relaxed just a tad, “Good, ok. I checked his safe houses, all the ones that aren’t in inhabited buildings are burnt down, the others are abandoned. I don’t think he’s in Gotham, or Oracle would’ve been able to track him.”

“You’ve been searching for him prior?”

“Yes,” Dick crossed his arms, “It also doesn’t seem any of the rogues got him. The ones who have a chance - Joker and the rogue’s - were in Arkham around the time he disappeared. So unless they’re hiding him real well, he’s not here. So that means he’s probably out of Gotham. We need to-“

“No.”

“What’s wrong with contacting the Justice League? They’re there to help!”

“To help with world ending emergencies,” Batman mimicked Dick, crossing his arms, “Not find a child.”

“A child?! You mean your son? My brother!” Dick was practically screaming, “If you don’t - if you - fuck you, Bruce. You know that? If you don’t care, fine! Get fucking lost, I’ll deal with this, and I am going to the Justice League whether you’re in or not.”

“Ok,” Tim quickly stood, clapping his hands to diffuse the situation best he could, or at least before any fists are thrown, “Who’d take him out of Gotham?”

Tim counted five seconds before Dick looked away from Bruce, chest heaving with rage he was trying to suppress, “We don’t quite know who all his enemies are, but we know he has a lot.”

“That doesn’t help us at all.”

“It’s why we need the League’s help. Even if they aren’t actively looking, so long as they keep an ear to the floor they could get us some form of information that could lead us in the right direction.”

Bruce hummed, low in his throat, “And until then?”  
“We scour the underground of Gotham, make sure he’s not being kept any place here. Check security footage, anything that could catch sight of Jason. Make a code to save footage of the people who roughly have Jason’s build so we don’t have to look through months of feed. Cross reference data entrees for his name, or any of his aliases. We’re doing a thorough sweep. Got it?”

Tim gave a mock salute, “Aye aye, Captain.”

“Very well,” Damian nodded, “We should call in Barbara and the rest of the females for assistance immediately.”

“Ugh,” Tim scrunched his nose up, “Don’t call them _females_. Women, is fine. Even girls. Or badass warriors who can kick our asses, they’d probably like that one.”

“They cannot defeat me.”

“Even Cass?”

There was a moment of silence, “She may be my equal, nothing more.”

“Enough. You guys start on the security footage’s. I’m going to the Watchtower,” Dick put on his mask, “B, do whatever you want,” He can’t bother caring at this point, “Just don’t get in the way.”

“I’m coming with you,” Batman looked to Dick, “That’s no problem, is it?”

“None at all,” Nightwing turned away from his father, “Let’s go.”

The Watchtower was filled with heroes. Of course it was, because Nightwing called them all here, and they listen to the man. They respect him. Bruce, however, wasn’t expecting them all to be here already. Nightwing had this planned since the very beginning, and he didn’t tell Bruce. They are going to have _words_ later.

“You called?” Superman smiled at Nightwing, standing up to greet his two friends, “What’s happened?”

“Red Hood is gone,” Batman spoke before Dick got the chance, “We haven’t had contact with him for a month.”

“He’s not just gone,” Nightwing’s tone took an annoyed tilt, “He’s missing. I think he’s been abducted.”

“No,” Hal looked between them all, “Red Hood can’t just be kidnapped. He’s, well, he’s him.”

“That’s why we’re calling you all for help. Whoever took Hood is powerful. Even if you guys don’t actively look for him, we’d appreciate it if you can keep an eye out incase you see him or someone who may have taken him,” Dick tried to smile at his fellow heroes, “That’s all we ask.”

Barry gave him two thumbs up, “Of course, Nightwing!” He smiled reassuringly at the hero, “We’re a family up here. We look out for each other. So, you got any leads?”

“Uh, no,” Nightwing frowned, “That’s the weirdest bit. It’s mostly speculation, honesty. Nothing concrete. But still, there is a high likelihood he was abducted, so that’s the theory we’re running with.”

“That, and my personal one.”

Nightwing shot Batman a glare, “Oh? I didn’t hear this one when we were, y’know, discussing it prior. Had to wait to reveal it, huh? Not enough dramatics in the cave?”

Superman’s mouth snapped shut, and they stared between the two heroes. The tension was thick, and Barry certainly felt weird being stuck in the little bat family quarrel. He’s certain the other’s must feel the same way.

“Not the time, Nightwing.”

“It’s never the time,” Dick scoffed, “So what is it then? What’s your little secret theory?”

Batman cleared his throat, “He left because he didn’t want to be one of us anymore.”

“That’s so stupid!” Dick scowled, “He helped us get D- Robin. He’s been doing better, hanging with Red Robin and being a part of the family. He wouldn’t just leave without a word!”

“Then maybe he just needed space.”

“Or maybe you don’t give a shit about him so you’re trying to keep the rest of us from caring about him. Or maybe you’re hiding a dirty little secret. Is that it?”

Batman scowled, “Enough, Nightwing.”

Ok, this is getting ridiculous. Superman cleared his throat, “It’s ok, Batman. Better safe than sorry. We’ll be happy to help you look for Red Hood.”

Nightwing relaxed, relief flooding him, “Thank you. All our rogues were in Arkham when he disappeared, so that means he’s most likely taken by someone who has contact with the Rogues, or who Hood messed with before. Maybe the League. So, I’m thinking Deathstroke may be a candidate,” he watched Green Arrow tense, “And Luthor, I know he worked with Joker that one time. Maybe the others too.”

“Maybe a Red Lantern.”

“Batman!” Dick scowled, “Can you not be a dick for like, one minute?”

“It’s a fair assumption, considering who he is.”

Hal cleared his throat, “I doubt it, but I’ll look into it if it’ll make you feel better.”

“Yes,” Batman glared at Nightwing, “Please do.”

Dick wanted nothing more than to punch Bruce in his stupid face.

“Ok,” Superman snapped forward, resting a hand on Dick’s shoulder, “Bruce, why don’t you talk to the Lantern’s about your Red Lantern theory. Nightwing, why don’t you come with me and we can discuss the best ways to look for your brother.”

God bless Superman. “Ok, yeah. That sounds like a good idea,” Nightwing shouldered past Bruce, ignoring Batman to the best of his ability, “Thank you. I really appreciate this.”

“Of course,” Superman smiled, “You’ve helped us all so many times, it’s the least we can do.”

A little flutter of hope swirled in Nightwing’s chest. With the help of Superman and the League, they’ll find Jason. He’ll be ok.

He has to be.


	2. Chapter 2

The day was beautiful. The temperature was just cool enough to warrant sleeves, but not cold enough that a person would need to layer. The sun was out, shining brilliantly behind the protective shade of the fluffy, white clouds. There was a gentle breeze that danced between the long grass and colored flowers. It was the type of day that would convince home bodies to come out and play. A type of day someone would want to spend with a friend or loved one.

Ghost was excited to share this day. He took a deep breath of the fresh air, enjoying the smell of the grass and nectar. He walked back to his car, knocking on the window to wake the sleeping passengers: his unlucky guests. He watched them jerk awake, blinking slowly as they came back to themselves. Then, they started screaming, or trying to scream, but the gags around their mouths kept them from making too much noise.

Ghost opened the car door, smiling under his mask, “It’s a beautiful day! Do you not like it?” He laughed something cruel, “It was a day like this when you took those kids hostage before murdering them,” He dragged the two men from the car, kicking them to fall face first into the long grass. “Those kids had so much to live for. They didn’t deserve to die. They deserved to go back home to loving parents, to laugh and cry and grow up. You took that from them.”

And so, Jason will do what Bruce was never willing to do for him. Jason will do what no one was willing to do for him. He is going to avenge those kids. He was going to put their murderers into the ground, to remember them, to show them that they were loved and cared for - show them, and the world, that child murderers do not have a right to live after… everything. They don’t deserve to live.

He ignored their muffled pleas for mercy. 

“Don’t bother praying,” Jason leveled his gun at their heads, finger poised on the trigger, “You’ll be going straight to hell.”

The beautiful day was interrupted with the sound of two gunshots, tall grass and colored flowers stained red as the scent of copper filled the air. Ghost looked over his handy work with a smile before walking around to the his car, speeding away from the two dead bodies left uncovered in the open field.

Ghost has no home. He has no city to protect or place to return to, and he likes it like that. Now, sure, he has his base, the place to send his shipments and store whatever he feels like he doesn’t need to carry around, but still, no _home_. It’s a nice change, traveling the country - the world - to chase the evil rather than waiting for it to come to him. It’s been thrilling, exhilarating, and Jason finally feels like he’s making a change in the world. He’s protecting people. He’s keeping them safe. Finally, properly, keeping them safe.

Though he doesn’t always aim for vengeance. He tries to do preventative ass kicking, too - Stopping assholes before someone has to lose their life. He’s been getting good at it too, as he’s made a new system to interrupt radio frequencies and spy on anything or anyone. Specifically those who may be evil, may want to hurt someone. He’s been setting up a network that gets him connected to the underworld; allows him to hear the whispers and connect with people who don’t mind trading secrets for a few bucks or a promise of protection. It worked. It worked real well.

It also means he’s met a few other colorful figures in his travels. Like Slade Wilson. Deathstroke. Dick’s nemesis. Though, frankly, Slade’s not nearly as bad as Dick (or Oliver) makes him out to be. He has some morals, and few lines he won’t ever cross. Much like Jason himself, just a little (lot) more in the gray. They even worked a few cases together, though Wilson was always adamant on taking the kill shot. He said if he didn’t make the kill, he didn’t deserve to take the money from the contract. Jason respected it.

Of course, sometimes, they were on opposing sides. Sometimes one of Slade’s target’s was someone Jason didn’t believe should die. And they fought, brutally. There was no reason to pull their punches, to aim non-lethally. But they never killed each other in the end. Even when they could. It became a sort of… fond acquaintanceship. If acquaintances regularly beat each other up, that is. But it worked for them.

It will always work out, in the end.

* * *

Nightwing was in metropolis patrolling with Superman, meaning, while ‘patrolling’ he was keeping an eye out for any sign of Jason, or Red Hood. Though by the looks of it, his brother isn’t here. Even Lex Luthor seemed genuinely confused when Nightwing broke into his pent house late one night demanding to know where Red Hood was. But also, he could have been confused as to why a Gotham vigilante was in Metropolis and breaking into his pent house. Which, Dick admits, would confuse almost anyone.

Dick slumped in the chair at Clark’s kitchen table, letting out a long sigh, “We can’t find him anywhere. It’s like he just vanished!” Dick let his head drop to the table, resting his forehead against the cool table top, “I can’t get anything. Tim can’t find anything. Bruce still thinks he’s a Red lantern even though Hal and Stuart has told him Jason probably isn’t… it’s just, nothing’s working.”

Clark frowned. He hated to see his nephew so… resigned, and stressed. He hated to see Dick lose his usual, happy demeanor that radiates positivity and optimism. Dick is the heart and soul of the hero community. To have him so down; it brings everyone down.

Well, the best way to encourage the Bat’s is to give them a mission. A distraction, so to speak. “If you want, why don’t you help me out with different mission here. It shouldn’t take too long.”

“Help?” Dick brought his face up off the table, a tiny, little grin on his face. He did always love helping his ‘Uncle Clark’, “With what? What’s the mission?”

“There’s a new vigilante working in Metropolis. The paper’s are calling him The Ghost.”

“Ooh, spooky.”

“Mhhm. He showed up one day out of the blue, and now he’s wrecking havoc on the city,” mostly the underground of the city, though, “I haven’t particularly been able to pinpoint him, so why don’t you help me out? Besides, taking a step back and focusing on something else may help you with Jason. After all, maybe you just need to focus on something else for a but, then come back with a fresh perspective.”

As much as Dick hates to admit it, Clark makes a good point. Maybe he’s been too close and he’s starting to miss pieces of the puzzle.

“Ok,” Dick let out a sigh, “Let’s find this little ghost.”

Ghost. Dick’s heard of him once before through Green Arrow. He remembers Oliver going off about the new asshole who was helping Deathstroke. Dick didn’t pay too much mind, though. There seemed to be new heroes and anti-heroes and villains crawling out of the woodwork nowadays. If he tried to keep up with all of them, he’d lose his mind.

Luckily, not many of them really made the big leagues. Those he did, actually, have to pay attention to.

Though working with Deathstroke, pissing off Green Arrow, and now duping Superman? Yeah, this man - or woman - could be considered part of the big leagues by now. Hopefully they’ll just be able to talk to him, and maybe even get him to join the side of the heroes. Dick would like to think there’s a chance with this guy, to make him good. After all, from what he understands, he’s been staying away from the innocent people. Protecting them, even. He’s more anti-hero than villain, so maybe they could make him full hero!

If nothing else, maybe he knows where Jason is.

“What part of the city is he in?”

“He’s been moving between the warehouse district and the banking district. Nightwing nodded, “Do you know what he’s after?”

“I’m assuming a corrupt banker or politician,” Clark shook his head a bit, God knows they have plenty of those, “Other than that, no clue.”

“Sounds like fun!” Dick stretched. He is a bit excited to meet his Ghost, now, “Wanna see if we can catch him tonight?”

“I would love to, but first, dinner,” Clark pulled the once frozen pizza from the oven, “Ready for some pizza?”

Dick smiled widely, his light once again returning to his eyes. It made Clark smile.

“I’m always ready for pizza, Clark. Always.”

“I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next update! Paths are soon to cross  
> Feel free to drop down and leave me a comment!

**Author's Note:**

> How'd you guys like the start of it? Please feel free to leave a comment!


End file.
